


Quicksilver Smiles

by navree



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Crushes, Episode Tag, F/M, Smile, he's so soft around her I can't, let em rise!!!!, like honestly look at their interactions, so listen jughead???? loves veronica!!!!, you can't tell me that ain't the truest love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 12:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13411587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navree/pseuds/navree
Summary: He hears the silver bell sound of her laughter, and he has a brief flash of why Archie nearly destroyed his relationship with Betty for her.Jughead isn't the smiling type. But it seems like every time Veronica speaks, she brings it out of him.





	Quicksilver Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly have no clue what this is plot or format wise, but I saw a gifset on tumblr that just documents how in almost every single time they talk, it always seems like jughead is smiling at veronica as if she's the most wonderful thing he's ever seen. and so here i am, when i should be writing GP's next chapter or working on my jeronica slowburn/riverdale rewrite, giving you this instead  
> as always, comments (either positive or constructive) are always welcome and much appreciated!

Jughead knows that there are some people who make others happy just by existing. Betty used to light up like the sun whenever Archie was in a five mile radius. His dad used to do the same with his mother, before things went wrong. He's never had someone do that for him, not for much of his life. Jughead doesn't think he's ever going to. Not with his family, as screwed up as they are. Not with Archie, because their friendship has been potholed by such a variety of issues that, despite the clear and unending love he holds for his friend, he still guards himself. Not with Betty, because her cotton candy purity makes him strive to be the better version of himself, the best version of himself, and he can never let his guard down if that's to be the case. Not with Veronica, in all her beauty and vivacious wit and infuriating personality, who makes him squirm and roll his eyes more than she makes him grin. 

Veronica cracks a joke that first night together at the diner, some comment about the film style circa 1960. It's a joke that goes completely over Archie and Betty's respective heads, but Jughead gets it, and he's cracking up before he knows it. He misses laughing, laughing with sheer and unadulterated joy, and for some reason he likes it all the more that Veronica-strange and beautiful and witty Veroncia-is the one to bring it out of him. He muffles it behind his hand of course, but Jughead can see the proud look on her face as she notices it, and just for a brief moment, he allows himself to appreciate it all, before crawling back behind his ever present mental walls, even during emotional peacetime. Only at this particular instance, it feels less like a voluntary retreat, and more as if he's being dragged back. 

They're eating lunch together, a brief moment of respite that allows for teenagers to be teenagers, rather than workers attempting to unravel their parents' secrets and solve murder mysteries. Jughead isn't really paying attention to the conversation beyond the occasional snippets when Betty brings up her lack of knowledge of Veronica's ability, much to his surprise. _Like a nightingale_ is the brunette's answer, with the right amount of humility and pride, ducking her head with a smile. And almost subconsciously, noticed only after the fact, the corners of his mouth quirk up, and it's as if he can feel his gaze soften, as if seeing that smile, so different from the typical weaponization of curved lips that he's used to, melted something in him. 

It's a good cake. A disastrous birthday with instances he doesn't bear thinking about now that they've passed, but a good birthday nonetheless. He woke early, to relish in the silence, and it's why he's so stunned at first when Veronica makes her way down the stairs, dressed in the same outfit as the night before, shoes in hand. It's a nice outfit, and even with sleep mussed hair and a started look on her face she's still one of the most beautiful people Jughead has ever seen, hands down. They stare at each other for a moment, both caught off guard by the unexpected presence of the other, and at the memories of their own behavior from the night before. And then a sound, from Veronica's lips, a happy sounds. He hears the silver bell sound of her laughter, and he has a brief flash of why Archie nearly destroyed his relationship with Betty for her. There's something in that sound that makes him want to die for her, to live for her, if only for a moment. She ducks her head again and smiles, a self deprecating yet unabashedly happy smiles, another laugh stuttering quietly out of her mouth. And this time Jughead knows he's smiling back, not as wide but just as happy, his eyes hooded but with no malice behind them. Warmth blossoms in his chest, quiet and hopeful, and not for the first time, he thinks of how extraordinarily lucky Archie is to have captured Veronica's heart. 

He's the social pariah of Riverdale. His father was poor, his father was a Serpent, his father was a murderer, his father was an accessory to a crime, his father was a snitch, his father refused to cooperate. Every time FP made a choice, the consequences always fell heavily on Jughead's shoulders. Him and him alone, which is why he enjoys this time far away from everyone, all by his lonesome, where he can play pretend that the ostracization doesn't sting just the slightest bit. But apparently Veronica Lodge has never gotten the Riverdale memo that he is to remain untouched, because here she is, plunking herself down on the bench next to him as if it's the most natural place in the world. And already Jughead is fighting his instinct to smile at her, as if she has some bizarre witchy effect on him. And then she speaks, as she is wont to do, banal words that, ordinarily, would bounce off of him as if he was made of teflon. It doesn't this time, and Jughead ducks his head, similar to the way she does on occasion, to avoid being seen with such a wide grin on his face. A huff of laughter escapes him, along with a fond roll of dark eyes, and it's as if the ice that clutched at his heart for so long has melted away, been replaced with the first springtime blooms, nurtured by Veronica's natural light. 

Roaming the halls of Riverdale High once more, Jughead won't deny that he's missed this. There are painful memories, of course, chapters in his and Betty's sad and short love story lining the walls, but there are familiar faces and old friends awaiting him and his new ones. And, at the end of the hall, like a shining beacon to a drowning sailor, is Veronica Lodge, beautiful and prepared and determined. He's almost surprised that she's leading the charge, but he's learned not to be surprised by how she surprises him. She's dutifully beside Archie, of course, but she's looking at him and only him with those glossy sloe eyes, and just like the first time, at the lunch table way back that fall, he feels the softness of his smile, the slow spread of the curve of his lips, the way his gaze turns from steel to satin. He's missed her, missed the way she makes him feel, and all he wants is to take her hand across the table and let her know it, and thank her for helping him. Not just now, but in the way she's managed to open his heart, in all different ways imaginable. 

And most of all, he wants to thank her for her smile. For teaching him how to do it too.


End file.
